


Biting at the Bit

by precedesme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has A Praise Kink, Dean Winchester Has a Wild West Kink, Dean likes attention from men, Drabble, Implied Sexual Content, Praise Kink, just something I'm trying out, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 16:14:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30125466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/precedesme/pseuds/precedesme
Summary: Alone on a hunt, Dean takes the opportunity to explore something that had been on his mind for a while with the help of his trusty cowboy hat.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Biting at the Bit

Dean gets an idea one day as he shoulders open a stiff motel door, bags and jangling keys in hand. The thought rings clearly in his head despite the stuffy, stale air of the motel room. This sudden clarity has him pausing in his tracks, door ajar, sunlight outside pouring in on all that roadside ugly. Forget the case, he decides, it's a tangled mess. As for the flash of heat low in his hips, though, that's... that's an easy fix. 

He tosses his duffle to the spare bed, then his jacket shucks off of his shoulders and lands in a heap on the cheap chair with the scratchy, synthetic upholstery that sits in the corner of the room. He looks at the locked door and the shut curtains as he closes himself in and the sunlight out of the motel room, thanking the gods that Sam had come down with something the day prior. There was no way he could address the stiffy that was coming to life in his pant leg if he weren't alone. 

* * *

Later that day, long after the sun had set, he hunches over a cheap laminated chipboard table and recounts some evidence, scrawling notes in a worn moleskin when his burner phone vibrates quietly in his pocket. Almost as if he were aching for a distraction, his focus snaps, brittle as it was. Slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling his phone out, his eyes adjust to read the crisp text sitting under a notification.

_ your voice is just what i needed to hear, darling, got me off real quick. kudos. would love to see more xx _

With a glance around the room to remind himself that yes, he's alone, he abandons his pen for a better grip on his phone. Before he can resist and make a feeble attempt at re-focusing on the case, he’s thumbing through a modest comment section.

_ keep em coming, cowboy _

Heat rises underneath Dean’s collar. He shifts in his seat, readjusting the way his jeans sit. 

_ so hot the way you trembled like that. makes me wonder what you're like under the hat. gonna hang on to this one for a while _

Dean takes a slow, shaky breath as something rips at the pull cord attached to his heart and sends it sputtering to life behind his ribs. Easy, tiger. 

He looks at the screen again. 13 views. He reckons that’s nothing to get excited about, but it  _ is _ something. Not to mention that at least three of those views liked the video enough to have something good to say, so hey, he'll take it. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” he mutters, his gaze suddenly fixed on some point far away from the walls of the motel room. Somebody−no, not just somebody, some  _ guy _ −had rubbed one out because of him. Something hot prickles under his skin and Dean’s lips part in interest as he mulls over that idea for several moments. 

Blinking, Dean hovers his thumb over a reply to the first comment, the one where the guy called him ‘darling’. Once again, his hands move of their own volition, and he finds himself staring at a text box with a slowly ticking cursor.

_ More soon, partner. Stay tuned _ , he replies.

He tugs the page down, watching the loading wheel turn as it refreshes. He does this once, twice, then a third time before another reply appears beneath his own.

_ won’t miss it. hope to see you open up some more. i’m willing to bet confidence is a good look on you x _

Somewhere during all this, the corners of his lips began to poke into his cheeks. He catches his own expression, rife with giddiness, reflected in the dark interface of his phone screen, but he finds that he can’t help but agree with the smug son of a bitch staring back at him. Confidence  _ is  _ a good look on him, and his dick agrees.

He takes his eyes off of the phone to land his gaze on the wide, curving brim of a black felt cowboy hat that sits upside-down on the dresser, distinct in silhouette and craft. Fit for a real caballero, he reckons. Fit for him, that's for damn sure. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Testing the waters here : ) this could be something that I expand on if people seem to like it!


End file.
